


Animation

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Soulmates, Vagabond Ryan Haywood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It was 3:20 am, his clock was ticking in the background, his phone alarm set. He spun the vial between his fingers, the bit of orange in the centre of the vial staying consistent no matter which way he moved the liquid. It intrigued him, the way it showed as 2 strains overlapping each other, never separating, never moving no matter how hard he tried.orRyan and Gavin experience their lives without one another.
Relationships: Gavin Free/Ryan Haywood
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	Animation

Gavin hated the amount of rejection he faced. His dates never went the way he wanted, there was the girl who wouldn't let him get a word in, the man who spent the whole time on his phone, the other man who disagreed with all of his opinions without even letting him explain why he believes them.

He struggled with connections it seemed, people never let him speak his mind without either belittling him or completely brushing him off. His crew weren't that bad, they let him talk and they listened, they were the only people who had been nice enough to consider him, yet still, he missed being around other people, missed having people to text and could catch up with over coffee. He only wanted an outsider for once, someone who didn't see him as an asset but saw him as a person. 

\-- -- -- 

Gavin remembered throwing the flowers in the bin once his date was over. A man who had seemed okay at first, he was conversational over text and the only seemed to scowl at every word he said. Gavin was never good at conversation, his charm only working on criminals who saw what he was saying as gospel. Civilians weren’t hooked in the same way mob bosses were, he could drip his words into their ears, promises of money and power that would sway them, normal people didn’t behave the same way. 

They saw him without the stigma of his role, they didn’t see the person in charge, they just saw a man they didn't know yet. They didn't see him as the key to being a bigshot, they only saw a potential date. It hurt to know he was only good when people knew they could use him for their wealth - he was only useful to the sycophants who ran rampant in the city. 

He only had himself to blame for that, he’d spent years and years building up an image, letting himself work the way into minds of those who hungered for power. He had no more words to lend, no charm for normal people. He spoke for those who were in the know, could only bat his eyelashes at criminals to get what he needed. Outside of work he was nothing.

His brain was whirring with these thoughts when he got interrupted. A woman who lightly grabbed his arm and urged him aside under the cover of a building he didn’t quite recognise. Gavin felt caught off guard and slightly weirded out to be so easily pulled away from the crowds that filled the Friday evening streets. Her face covered by a dark cloak, body masked by a deep brown robe. Total anonymity. 

She didn’t feel dangerous though, nothing about her screamed, only intrigued. 

“Gavin Free,” She spoke evenly. He didn’t know her at all, no name, no face, nothing. She knew him though, his name, his face. It was concerning.    


“You don’t know me,” She started, she slipped something out of a pocket embedded deep within the cloak, “But I need you to trust me.” 

She thrust a vial into his hand, yellow with a swirl of orange in the middle. It felt light in his hands, strangely familiar. 

“I need you to drink this, 3:23 am on Sunday. No earlier, no later.” 

And with that, she disappeared. 

\-- -- -- 

Gavin was always told to not trust strangers, never take things from them, don’t go to their cars. Since he was a child, he was taught that strangers were bad people but now he didn’t know what to do. 

  
It was 3:20 am, his clock was ticking in the background, his phone alarm set. He spun the vial between his fingers, the bit of orange in the centre of the vial staying consistent no matter which way he moved the liquid. It intrigued him, the way it showed as 2 strains overlapping each other, never separating, never moving no matter how hard he tried. 

He was mesmerised until his alarm went off, he thought for a second, thought about the worst that could happen was death, something he had too many run-ins with to truly care about anymore. He was curious, thinking about the future wasn’t his style. 

So while he still had the chance, he took off the lid of the vial and downed the contents. 

\-- -- -- 

He saw himself in bed with another person, head on their chest, hair swept to the side with a hand around his shoulders. He looked so peaceful, smiling slightly in his sleep as he huddled closer and closer to the body. 

The other person - a man, he noted - seemed to have him wrapped up in his arms completely. It was weird seeing himself so content with someone else, someone who was clearly comfortable with him. It made him happy to see him with someone. After all his bad luck lately, it was refreshing to see someone could tolerate him. 

-

He felt the scene around him vibrate, nothing impacting the two sleeping in the bed, but his vision itself was blurring around the edges, glitching like a TV screen, until he was pulled into a different scene. There was a fire on a stove and laughter filling the air, he saw himself toppled over in laughter as his partner went to smother the fire out with a wet tea towel. The smell of burnt popcorn tainted the surroundings but neither seemed to be upset, his partner had a faint smile on his face as he attempted to smother the flames filling their kitchen. 

The more Gavin looked, the more he recognised the penthouse. It looked like it had been renovated, but he saw the distinct stab in the far-right countertop that Michael had left after a heist had gone wrong, the walls had changed colour, the fridge and the stove were newer than the ones that they had currently. He recognised it though, this man was someone who knew about the crew then. 

-

The next scene transitioned more smoothly than the last one, the blur in the edge of his vision seemed shorter. He saw a burning bank in the background, the crew were standing around an unmarked van, evaluating their injuries while the cops had got lost. The bag full of money sat in the back, green paper poking out the edges - money that would inevitably be laundered to become clean again. 

He was aside from the crew, a man with a mask in front of him that he couldn’t quite see. He looked familiar, the jacket he was wearing was particularly striking. He had seen this man before,  _ where? _ was the question taunting him. 

They were huddled closely, the other man examining his wrist closely, Gavin was more amazed he could see anything through the mask. He kept watching, watched as he snatched his wrist out of the other’s hand. 

“Ryan it’s fine!” Other him exclaimed. The man -Ryan, his brain supplied- didn’t seem as convinced. 

“I’m still forcing you to go to Caleb the minute we reach the safe house,” Ryan said. He saw himself sigh and deflate, roll his eyes and head back to the van. He saw Ryan follow him, finally getting a view of the mask and the jacket in full. 

It hit him then, the name that had been on the tip of his tongue but nestled in a secret corner of his brain. 

_ The Vagabond _ . 

\-- -- -- 

Gavin woke up in his apartment bedroom again, only for a brief second. His eyes were wide, mouth dry, he brought his hands to his face, mind reeling. He was going to shag the most infamous man in Los Santos, he was going to be in a happy and loving relationship with a raging psychopath. The most sought after criminal, the most expensive Mercenary he had ever seen. 

His thoughts stopped, his eyes shut. He got sucked back into his visions. 

\-- -- -- 

Gavin saw himself alone, which was strange. There was no one else in his bed, no semblance of someone else having been there. It looked strikingly empty, his bed was only creased on one side, as though someone hadn’t been in it with him for a long time. 

It didn’t look right, it looked dark and gloomy, so did he. He was sat up on his side of the bed, staring into space. He looked empty. 

Something felt off. 

-

He didn’t see Ryan on the next heist either, no mask, no jacket, nothing. It was the crew now, but his other self felt off-kilter, his shooting wasn’t as straight normal, his sunglasses were sat crooked, his shirt wasn’t what he would normally wear. 

Everything looked overcast, this world wasn’t as bright as the one he had just been in. He was sad, he had no one to be with, he was lonely. This world was lonely, the sky looked greyer than before. There was nothing he could do about it. All he did was keep watching. 

\- 

He was on a cliff, sitting. His feet were dangling off the edge and his golden pistol was thrown next to him. He was looking down at the road below him, all these people living their meaningless lives driving under him. Unaware, unphased by the day to day of everything. 

He lasted here for a while, watching for what felt like forever. He saw himself stand up and go to his car, the first car Geoff had bought him. The paint had chipped on the hood, the door handles were halfway to falling off. He watched himself as he sat in the driver’s seat, watched himself get ready to drive off, he watched himself stop and start crying. Gavin watched himself for as long as he could, could see the tear tracks when he stopped for a second.    
  
Gavin didn’t know he could feel sad. 

\-- -- -- 

He came back again in his apartment, horrified. He saw the clock still showed it as 3.23 am. He was confused and conflicted, itching to leave this space, he needed to go back to the Penthouse. He wasn’t sure how brave he was to walk around the streets of Los Santos this late in the night but he knew he would have to for his own sake. 

He was terrified, he didn’t want to see the second world. Didn’t like the gloom it wrought on him. He wanted to know where Ryan was. He wanted to be happy. Gavin didn’t think he’d be able to deal with himself if his life ended up like the second world. 

\-- -- -- 

Ryan doesn’t remember how Geoff Ramsey contacted him. He just wanted a messy hit, something that screamed Fake AH Crew, something to get rid of some people encroaching on his territory. Ramsey had said he would need to come in person to get the file and information from him, probably a background check to make sure Ryan does his work himself. 

He does remember going to the penthouse though, remembers being let in by a lovely woman called Jack, she threatened to castrate him if he fucked up this kill. He could appreciate a woman who had her priorities. 

When he walked in there was someone in the corner of the sofa, he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week and was overthinking every day. His brain still helpfully called the man attractive. Right now he looked small, tucked in on himself as he scrolled through his phone. 

When he looked up from his phone though he looked about ready to jump out of his skin, Ryan thought it may have been about his reputation, mass murderer Vagabond, he didn’t think about other possibilities. The guy did get up and disappear into the bedroom space in the penthouse, looking shaken up as anything. 

“Sorry, that’s Gavin, he’s not been feeling good lately,” Jack explained, her face screamed concern. She wanted to know what was wrong, she had asked and all Gavin had told her was that she wouldn’t believe him. She didn’t like her crew being off their game, she especially didn’t like when the people she loved were clearly distressed. 

Ryan just nodded at her, not giving it much thought. He just wanted to get the information and move on with his life. 

\-- -- -- 

When he reached the bottom of the street where the Fakes lived he felt an arm grab him. A manicured hand pulled him aside lightly. He didn’t appreciate being grabbed in the street by anyone, especially not by people who were cloaked entirely to mask their face. 

“Ryan Haywood,” She spoke softly as she pulled something out of her sleeve, ”You might want to take this. Drink it on Saturday, at 11.22 pm.” 

“What does it do?” He asked as the vial was handed to him. 

“You ever feel lonely Ryan?” She asked before she walked off. Ryan stood there, this weird serum in his hands and shock somewhere in his mind. 

\-- -- -- 

On Wednesday Ryan was back at the penthouse for another file, this was an ally that had been messing them about. He didn’t pay money to them anymore, didn’t sell on the drugs they were giving him, nothing. He was a boss with no power, a salty boss with no sense. 

“Oh, before you go,” Geoff said turning around with a piece of paper in his hand, “We’d like to offer you a full-time placement here at the Fakes.” He took the paper form off of Geoff lightly, it looked like it had the terms of employment on it. 

“I will consider it,” He spoke. He thought about throwing it out almost straight away but something in the back of his brain told him not to. He didn’t see worth in his job, not with the money he was making being solo, but still, he put the terms on his fridge before looking into his new file. 

He didn’t know what it was about the Fakes that kept him drawn to them, whatever it was he hoped would be explained soon. 

\-- -- -- 

On Saturday night Ryan sat on the sofa in his apartment, the leather on his sofa was starting to curve in and the arm on the left was starting to completely wear. 

He stared at his little radio clock on his coffee table, it was 11.20 right now, only 2 minutes until he drank what he assumed to be poison. He wasn’t sure why he was placing his faith in a woman he didn’t even know the name of but something in his mind was telling him it was good, his gut was yet to be wrong. 

He looked at the serum, it was nothing he’d ever seen before. It was strikingly yellow, with streaks of orange in the middle. The 2 streaks ran over and under one another, perfectly entwined and undisturbed amongst the other contents. He wanted to make sure it was safe until his clock suddenly ticked over to 11.22. 

He still doesn’t know what influenced him to do it, but he took off the cork stopper and knocked it back. 

\-- -- -- 

Ryan was in a room, a room he hadn’t seen yet. His belongings were strewn all over it, his jacket was thrown into the corner, his mask on a desk he knew he didn’t own. There was a man in his bed too, his hair looked fluffy, his small smile charming. 

He saw it was Gavin, that guy who looked terrified of him at the penthouse last week. They were both wrapped up in each other, Gavin cuddled into him, head between Ryan’s neck and the pillow. They looked picturesque together, a scene from a movie, a desktop background. They weren’t mismatched, they looked content with one another. A romance that almost appeared fake. 

Ryan wasn’t sure what he thought about the two of them together, not that he had much time to think at all. 

-

Ryan saw himself looking into his apartment. He walked in with his mask off, Gavin under his arm smiling happily while holding groceries. It looked all like absolute junk food, sugary drinks and chocolate. 

They were smiling at one another though, lost in each other. It seemed like something happy had happened, something they were going to celebrate by getting lost in the world of carbohydrates and sweets. There was something sweet about the way Gavin was tucked close to Ryan but still able to walk without walking into him. Maybe it was practice, maybe they were so in tune with one another they were able to navigate with and around one another. 

Ryan wasn’t sure, but it did make him smile to see himself so happy. 

-

The last thing Ryan saw was in the Fakes’ penthouse. Him with Gavin cuddled under a pile of blankets with the TV on low, it seemed to be night time, hardly any light was going into their living space. 

He watched as Gavin got comfortable on his other self, the way he lay his head on his chest, the way he wrapped his arms around Gavin. He smiled wider when he saw himself kiss Gavin on the top of his head, he loved the way Gavin let out a little squeak when he did. There was something nice about seeing himself with someone else, someone he didn’t know yet. 

Ryan could’ve stayed watching himself forever, alas he was pulled out of his magic-induced dream. 

-   
Ryan didn’t get a break to gather his thoughts and feelings, he was immediately pulled into a world that looked bleak, a world distinctly grey, a world that didn’t look like Los Santos. 

He saw himself walking on the street alone, gun in his hand and shaking. His jacket looked tattered, he himself didn’t look any better. He looked sad, there was no better word for it. The way he stood was off, the way he walked even worse. 

Something about the image he saw looked so distinctly wrong it concerned him. 

-

Next, he saw he was in his apartment, except this time it looked devoid of life. His sofa was new, his things packed away and put away but what struck him was how he walked in alone. He hung his keys by the door and it just felt empty - fake. 

Nothing about the scene felt right, it disgusted him how grim it appeared. He felt repelled by what he was being shown, his space wasn’t being taken up by anything. He hated the feeling it was giving him to see how lonely this world felt. 

-

The last thing Ryan saw in this world was him on a beach, kicking the rocks along the shore. There was an absence of people, the sun was barely above the waves and he couldn’t pinpoint what felt so wrong about everything he was being shown. He had never thought of himself as alone before, everyone knew he was a solo man, knew he worked for himself and himself alone but showing himself being so lonely, showing himself with the absence of other people felt wrong in a way he had never felt before. 

He saw himself pick up a rock and throw it, the crash felt cathartic to hear. He was angry, he saw. Saw it in the way his shoulders were tensing up, in the way his hair had been tied up messily and too tight. He didn’t know what was wrong, didn’t understand why his other self was so upset about everything. 

But everything he was shown was making him think, Ryan didn’t like thinking. 

\-- -- -- 

When Ryan was pulled out of the serum stupor he paused, he looked towards the fridge at the piece of paper he’d left there. All of his life he’d known working solo, he felt like he’d work alone forever, but after everything he’d been shown he knew he needed to change. If not only for Gavin, just for the fact that being alone currently made him feel absolutely terrified. 

\-- -- -- 

“So you’re willing to work for us?” Ramsey questioned. His tone was slightly shocked, almost as though he never expected this to ever happen. 

“I think it’s wise to join a crew,” Ryan spoke. He knew Ramsey was wondering why, he had been alone in his job for at least 5 years. The idea of a crew seemed late. “I need loyalty, Ramsey, that is one condition that is not compromisable.” 

“Good job you’re looking at the Fakes then, we’re not a business Vagabond, we’re friends,” Ramsey asserted. 

“Good.” 

\-- -- -- 

When Ryan was sitting in the heist room at their next meeting Gavin nearly screamed. He felt like he was being taunted, ever since he’d drank that poison he hadn’t got his mind off how alone he could be. He felt crippled by his insecurities even though they may not even be true. He had been presented with something beautiful and something ruinous, he felt like he was being haunted by what he had been shown. 

Ryan did nothing of interest though, Ryan just gave him a smile - Gavin recognised it as having something more behind it, as though Ryan knows something. It was one of those where the edges of his mouth were tugged a bit too high, where his eyes were going a million miles a minute and the rest of him was blank. 

Then Gavin realised, his smile was directed at him. Ryan  _ knew _ . 

\-- -- -- 

After the meeting, Ryan didn’t even let Gavin escape for a minute of respite. Everyone else left but Gavin, it was the two alone in front of the heist map, he was hoping there would be no listening ears outside of this room. 

“I know you drank that thing,” Ryan started. Gavin's eyes bulged open, mouth dry. He didn’t want to know how Ryan knew, it was scarier knowing that Ryan probably knew what the drink did. “It’s fine, so did I.” 

Ryan smiled again, this one softer than the previous one. There were wrinkles around his eyes when he did, something screaming serenity opposed to danger. Gavin liked the soft smile, it reminded him of the slight one he’d seen when he was in his haze of serum. 

“What’s important about drinking that thing?” Gavin asked. He didn’t want to be obvious about what he’d seen, he assumed Ryan had seen at least similar to what he had. People being sickeningly in love, them specifically being disgustingly infatuated. 

“You know exactly why I’m talking to you about this,” Ryan smirked. Gavin just sort of stared blankly, unable to register what he was hearing. It sounded almost like an invitation, a weird form of flirting that he’d never experienced before. He shook his head slightly, wanting to stop himself from becoming a puddle on the floor at the way his heart was beating. He did the only thing he knew how to do, he smirked, blinked in Ryan’s direction and tried to revert into the persona he’d built himself into for such a long time, 

“Talk to me some more then.” 

\-- -- -- 

It was 11.22 on a Saturday when Ryan realised he was in love with Gavin. He had him pinned against a wall, Gavin was making the prettiest noises quietly in his ear. Ryan realised he was in love when Gavin’s fingers were scraping against his back, the blunt nails would leave red lines in the morning and he relished in the idea of making Gavin so powerless to him that he felt the need to cling onto him, Ryan realised he was in love when Gavin rutted down onto his thigh, a stream of curses spilling from his mouth. Ryan realised he was in love when he realised he could never give this up, would never be able to stop the way he made Gavin weak against him. Ryan realised he was in love when his boyfriend was working his way to an orgasm, and he nearly laughed at how ridiculous that was. 

It was 3.23 the morning after when Gavin realised he was in love. He realised he was in love when his eyelids started drooping and he nestled up to Ryan and his arms automatically wound themselves around his body. It was 3.23 on a Sunday when Gavin 's shut and felt safe, when the thought of him being alone forever ceased to exist. It was 3.23 am when he felt Ryan’s breath on his face, when he felt enclosed, when he felt something spectacular. 

These times had been everything to both of them. The blood rushing in their veins, the smiles on their faces, the lightness in their hearts. It was these late hours of the night that had influenced everything, these times where they had drunk, these times where they had felt so in love with one another. No one other than them understood their significance, no one other than them would care. But that was fine, they had each other. This love that seemed almost fake to everyone around them, this all-encompassing need to be with one another all hours of the day that no one else seemed to understand. 

All that mattered to them was loving themselves and loving one another. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, this was posted ~10 minutes early, I'm watching the stream and just wanted to get this posted before I got completely sidetracked. 
> 
> As usual comments and kudos are appreciated (special thank you to B for leaving comments on everything, I adore your comments and you <3) and please follow me on tumblr @goldenboy-gav. 
> 
> Stay tuned on Wednesday for Sound and Silence!


End file.
